Chapter Text
"A": Speaking in English
'A': Thoughts
"A": Speaking in a different language
It has been a peaceful, relaxing day for the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.
With no work and no tension about the safety of the school with Amelia Bones on the field, he had nothing to worry about. Therefore, all he had to do the whole day was recline in his chair and devour the new lemon sherbet packet he had brought.
Nothing could interrupt his peaceful day.
... or that’s what he thought.
Because at the exact moment when he was about to put one of the candies in his mouth, his office door barged open, and the candy that was about to be in his mouth went flying from his hand in shock.
Pouting at the fallen, wasted candy, he looked up to see who was the culprit of that and saw a frantic-looking Harry Potter enter the room, waving a piece of paper in his hand.
“ALBUS Please tell me what the f*ck this is." Harry yelled, hammering down the card on his desk.
Dumbledore looked down at the pristine-looking card, and as he picked it up, he read it while Harry paced around the room.
Once he got to the end of the card, which he found out was the invitation card, there was a smile on his face.
“This is something to be proud of, Harry." Dumbledore said, looking up at the panicked young man, “You have been invited to an annual Halloween party where only the elite of the whole wizarding world are invited.”
“I know that just by reading the card, Albus,” Harry said dryly. “What I don’t understand is why am I getting invited into this thing when people didn’t even know about me just two months ago?!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands.
"Harry, I need you to first sit down and calm yourself,” Dumbledore told him, pointing him at the chair. “And take this candy; it will help you calm your blood pressure down," he said, pushing forward the bowl of candy.
Harry took his suggestion, sat down, and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He then took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth.
“Feeling better?” Dumbledore asked.
Harry, feeling relaxed and calm, stared up and nodded at the old wizard.
"Good,” Dumbledore said, bobbing his head. “Now listen to me closely,” he said seriously.
“This Halloween party has been the norm for centuries. It was invented to invite the best of the world and celebrate this festive eve. From all the countries, the most powerful and influential family has been personally invited to this party.”
“And believe me, a successful person like me also only began to get the invitation to this party when I defeated the previous dark lord. And what you may not know is that from Britain, the only family that gets invited to this party in this history has been the Peverell family.”
Harry leaned forward as the name of his family came up, and slowly everything made sense for him.
"In fact, Peverell was one of this party's founding families and the first to receive an invitation before they went extinct." Dumbledore continued staring down at Harry with the look he had adopted when he taught his students. "But now that you have come here and brought the name of Peverell House with you from death, it's not a shock that you got this invitation."
“Because believe me, Harry, they just did not invite you only for your family name, but I am very sure that they most probably have been keeping tabs on you since your return to see if you are who you claim to be. And after your recent victories against the death eaters, they are definitely interested in you to see what the head of the famed and mythic family Peverell has,” Dumbledore finished.
“I did fear that, Albus." Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. “That is why I am really not interested in going to this party or any other party, especially on the eve of Halloween, the day that has never been good to me.”
“I can understand your feeling, Harry,” Dumbledore sympathised, “but this opportunity is too big to refuse, and if you do, it would be seen as very disrespectful and might cause you problems going forward,” he advised Harry.
Harry groaned, “Are you sure I can’t just make an excuse to make it seem that I am not refusing and just can’t go?” He pleaded, trying to find any way to not go to this big gathering.
"No, Harry, you can't." Dumbledore rejected him softly, crushing his hopes. “And for a second, think about how beneficial it would be for you to go to this party,” he told him.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, frowning.
“Think about how many influential witches and wizards from all over the world would be there,” the century-old wise wizard said, leaning forward. “You have a chance to meet all these people and win their trust, which could help you a lot in the future.”
Harry joined his hands and put his head on them, taking his time to think about what the headmaster had told him.
The truth was that if this was Harry Potter from two years ago, he would never go to this party, no matter what the profit or circ*mstances were. Harry had always been disinterested in situations like this, where he had to go and mingle with other people.
But the Harry Potter of now was more mature and someone who knew the importance of having powerful people as your friends.
And if he had to defeat Tom and build a wizarding Britain that could flourish with everyone, he would need these people as friends.
Also, when he was looking to know more about his family history, he found a family accountant book by Peverell. In there, he found out that some of the family members in this party owe their success heavily to his family, and it was time for them to know that the hand that fed them was back and they should be ready to answer his call when he needed them.
"Fine, you’re right." Harry sighed, “I guess I am going to this party.”
“That’s the spirit, Harry,” Dumbledore grinned. “And don’t worry, you have me with you at this party. I will make sure you won’t get bored,” he said while nodding his head.
Harry snorted, "Albus, you would be meeting other old fossils like you. I have no desire to be bored to death with your group.”
“That’s not so nice, Harry, and it’s also not true." Dumbledore replied defensively, then hesitated when Harry raised his eyebrow. “I mean, I might have a couple of friends who are past 150, but that still doesn’t mean we are boring.”
"Yeah, of course you are not." Harry smiled sarcastically, and then, standing, he picked up his invitation. “I should go now. I have three days for myself to get mentally ready for this party,” he groused while trotting out.
“You don’t need to be so pessimistic about this, Harry,” Dumbledore said wisely with a smile. “Who knows, this event might turn out to be good for you?”
Harry stopped at the door and smiled at him over his shoulder. "Well, I really hope so,” he said, then left the room.
Dumbledore chuckled and leaned back. “At least this year's party will be interesting,” he said in the empty room.
His familiar phoenix trilled at him, flapping his wings.
“What?” Dumbledore asked in self-defence, “You wanted me to tell Harry how boring these parties are? Come on, Fawkes, that poor boy would never go to them if I did tell him; at least now I will have someone with me to get bored to death.”
Fawkes trilled again, irritated at his partner for forcing a poor guy in Harry to this party. All the while, Dumbledore just ignored his familiar, smiled, and took a candy from his bowl.
This really was a good day.
-
Pulling his tie off, Harry tossed it behind him on the bed as he decided not to wear it and looked in the mirror.
What he saw in the mirror this time satisfied him, and a smile spread on his face.
It was finally the day of Halloween. Which meant the day of the party to which he had been invited, andafter convincing himself for three days, Harry was finally ready to go and attend it.
He had been so unsure and unwilling to attend this party that even Bellatrix and Amelia had to join forces to persuade him to go.
And here he was, now in his room, ready and checking up to see if his fit was good enough for the event, as he knew many big people would be there and he wanted to make an impression that will be everlasting.
Judging by how good he looked, in his own humble opinion, in the emerald green and white two-piece suit he was wearing, Harry was sure he was ready for today.
Pulling his hair, he conjured a hair band and tied his shoulder-long hair in a man bun with one of the fringes free and over his forehead so that it could cover his scar. Even though it was very light and wouldn’t be seen if looked at closely, Harry was so used to covering it that it had become a habit.
Putting his cuff links on his wrist that were in the shape of a thestral, which was a nod to his house, he was ready.
He took his dark green coat and exited his room to go down to meet the Dumbledore at the gate of the school, from where they would go to the parties together.
Coming out, he was surprised to find Amelia in his living room. Seeing her in his quarter was not a surprise, since both of them tend to come and go in each other's rooms whenever they want. But what surprised him was that Amelia looked as if she were waiting for him.
“Amelia What are you doing here?” Harry asked curiously.
“Making sure that you don’t make a last-minute excuse and miss such a big opportunity,” Amelia replied with a smirk.
“Do you really have such little faith in me?” Harry pouted, and her raised eyebrow was his answer.
"Alright, okay, I accept. I might have had one or two fleeting thoughts like that, but then I remembered you wouldn’t like it, so I abandoned them.” Harry raised his hand and eyebrows. "Are you happy?”
"Very.” Amelia nodded, smiling.
Harry sighed and then straightened his shirt and asked, “So how do I look?”
Amelia stepped closer, opened the top two buttons of his shirt, and kept his coat open. “Very handsome. I am sure all the eyes will be on you,” she whispered, smirking, “or at least the eyes of all the girls and some married women as well.”
Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. “Why did you say that as if I was going there to ruin someone's marriage by stealing their wives?”
“How should I know? I haven’t known you for long enough, so there can be a chance that you might have such thoughts,” Amelia playfully said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Harry scowled, "Shut up, I don't," at which point they both lost all control and burst into laughter.
Both of them had become closer and closer each day, and they both knew they wanted each other, which was evident by the fact that Amelia was rubbing her hand on his chest, feeling his muscles quietly, while Harry’s hand was on her waist.
Harry knew what Bellatrix said about Amelia wanting him was true, and he had known it already, but he had been waiting to see if Amelia, the woman who liked to be in control, would take the first step.
And judging by the way her eyes were drifting from his eyes to his lips, Harry could tell how much she wanted to kiss him, which he wanted to as well.
Leaning towards each other, both of their lips were about to touch, if not for the phoenix patronus that just came into the room and interrupted them.
Once Harry saw it, the patronus disappeared, and he sighed, knowing the message it brought.
“I have to go. Dumbledore is waiting for me,” he said, pulling his hands off her waist.
"Yeah, you should." Amelia nodded, trying to fight the blush on her cheeks. “You are getting late for the party.”
“Don’t worry; once I return, I will tell you all about it." Harry winked at her to break the tension.
“I will hold you to that.” Amelia smiled.
Harry then, with one last smile for her, left his quarter and made his journey down to the gates.
Looking back, it was a good thing they didn't kiss right now, even though he was annoyed, because if they had, Harry would have arrived late.
Harry knew they were not going to just stop there once their lips finally met.
Arriving at the gate, he saw Dumbledore waiting for him wearing a weird purple robe.
The old man is so lucky that he is powerful and smart, because there is no way peoples can respect a guy with such ugly fashion sense.
“Are you really going in that?” Harry asked, pointing at his robe.
“Why? What is wrong with this?” Dumbledore said it with absolute seriousness.
'Everything' Harry thought, but for now he let it go because they didn’t have time left to discuss it.
"So, how are we going there?” He questioned the headmaster.
"Today, Harry, it will be you who will take us to the location we need to." Dumbledore smiled. “I want to know how you go to another country.”
"Fine,” Harry sighed, and then took out his wand from his holster. “Hold on to my shoulder,” he told him.
Dumbledore did as was told and tightly held on to his shoulder. Harry then closed his eyes, and the old wizard waited to see what the young man had in his pocket.
But he was surprised and shocked when suddenly a burst of wind came, and with just a blink of his eyes, Dumbledore found himself in Paris, France.
“Wh-what just happened?” Dumbledore stuttered in shock and turned to look at Harry's smug, smirking face. “How are we already here because I know you didn’t apparated us and you had no portkey as well?” he said in intrigued curiosity.
Harry was loving this; only very few people could say they left the great Albus Dumbledore stunned, and he was now one of them.
“I just used a magical apparation that I learned from a Brazilian magical book,” he explained. “In this, instead of an apparation where we open a space pocket between two different places, I actually submerge myself into the flowing magical wind around us, and I can fly in that channel from one corner to the other corner of the world.”
“The fact that it is so silent and effortless makes this so much better than apparation” Harry told the keenly listening Dumbledore, “although only someone very powerful and deeply connected to the magic around them could do this.”
Dumbledore stood still in complete shock as he took in the new magical technique. The child in him, who was always so excited about learning new things, was jumping up and down.
"That's so ingenious,” he said, and stroking his beard, he wondered, “Why did I never think about that?”
“You can think about that later, Albus, because right now we have a part to attend to,” Harry said, bringing their focus to the main point.
"Ah, yes, you’re right." Dumbledore nodded
After that, both of them stepped into the big hall. They were standing outside, and as soon as Harry stepped foot inside, he was blown away.
To call the hall large would be an understatement, because it was absolutely huge. And judging by how many people were in the hall, it needed to be that big.
There were beautiful sculptures all around the hall and entrance. There was even a fountain in the middle of the hall that was magically charmed to have sea life in it.
You could just feel an expensive vibe all over the place, and looking at the people in the hall, Harry could see how they held themselves with power and confidence.
All over the hall, there were magical beings from all around the world. He even saw a couple of vampires and werewolves from a country where they were not as restricted as in Britain.
“Monsieur Dumbledore! You finally made it.”
Hearing the French accent voice, Harry turned to look at who it was and saw a middle-aged grey-haired tall man with a neat beard on his somewhat handsome face.
“André Bernard, the French minister of magic,” Dumbledore whispered quietly to Harry as the man came with his arms wide.
“BonjourAndré” Albus smiled and greeted the minister as they hugged each other.
“How have you been, my friend?” The Frenchman asked with a genuine smile in his quite fluent English.
“Very fine, my friend, very fine indeed." Dumbledore replied, shaking the man’s hand. "How is everything going with your family?"
“All are healthy and happy, just like we want Albus." André grinned, and then his eyes went to Harry, who was watching the conversation. “And is that who I think it is?” He asked eagerly.
"If you think that is the young man who brought back Peverell's house, then your guess is right." Dumbledore nodded. “Harry Peverell, the head of house, Peverell and Hogwarts new defence teacher,” he introduced him with a proud smile.
"Ah, it is an honour to meet you, Lord Peverell,” André said in a perfect, sweet voice that only a politician could. However, Harry could see that the man was genuine, and the expression on his face showed that he was a little in awe of meeting him.
“The pleasure is all mine, minister.” Harry shook his hand with a perfect smile on his face. A smile that he had practiced for years.
“You have no idea how many people have been waiting to meet you since the world found out that the last scion of Peverell is alive,” André told him excitedly.
“I am excited to meet them as well,” Harry said with the fakest enthusiasm ever as the conversation began going to an awkward stage where he didn’t want it to.
Thankfully for Harry, Dumbledore came to his rescue. "André, are you just going to keep us here and not let Harry actually meet these people?” He asked, bringing the minister's attention to him.
"Ah, oui, oui, come. There are many people waiting to meet both of you." The minister led them into the packed hall, where the other people began to notice Harry and Dumbledore.
“Thank you,” Harry murmured silently to Dumbledore, who winked back at him.
The minister of magical France guided them to a group of individuals resembling prominent witches and wizards, confirming Harry's correctness as each one appeared to be affiliated with their respective country's ministry.
And then, when they saw Harry Peverell and Albus Dumbledore, everyone became eager to meet, and what followed for Harry was nothing but a sort of meet-and-greet.
Everyone seemed to want to meet him, and Harry almost panicked seeing so many people, but he composed himself and met every single one of them.
And the list wasn't short.
From the minister of Brazil to the minister of Japan, Harry met and talked with so many magical people that, at the halfway mark, he forgot what the last wizard name was.
And it wasn’t only politicians; there were also many celebrities in the wizarding world, which mainly included Quidditch players and artists.
Meeting them was actually one of the best parts of the evening for Harry because, at least talking with them, he didn't get bored to death.
There were even Professor Duellers in the party with whom Harry met, and he was surprised to know that the talk of his fight against death eaters really did spread high and wide, even outside Britain.
Most of the fighters proposed to join the duelling circuits, and some even challenged him to fight them, but Harry politely declined because he had no desire to fight for a crowd.
After fighting for half of his young life, Harry was already bored with fighting and had no desire to go to a field where he would have to fight for his career.
The only fight he wanted was against Tom and his minions, so that he could eradicate them and make the world a better place.
He also met some of the families he discovered who owed Peverell their entire success.
It was safe to say he was shocked to see how powerful and influential some were.
One of those was none other than Bulgaria's Minister of Magic, Dimitra Bakalov.
His house Bakalov were those who came to ask for help from the Peverell some couple of centuries ago, and accepting them happily, Harry's house had given them the wealth and resources needed for the Bulgarian family to build their threshold.
And now the head of that same house was the most powerful person in Bulgaria, and judging by how happy and respectful towards him that man was, if it were safe to say that Harry had the whole of Bulgaria on his back, if he needed them.
House Singh, from India, was the other one of such grateful families. Harry was pleasantly surprised to meet the second Indian family after the Patel, and he was astounded by how jovial and lively Amanjeet Singh, the house's head, was.
Harry was further surprised to know that Balpreet was also the head of DMLE and the next in line to be the minister of magic in India.
Harry might be bored the whole night talking with all these old political people, but at least he would leave here with the assurance and confidence that when he was in need, he would have the armed forces of two countries ready to fight for him.
Although that alone doesn’t negate the fact that there were some people who were literally making Harry pull his hair, he almost had half a mind to kill them right here and be done with their bullsh*t.
And most of these people were literally begging him and doing everything to convince him to marry their daughters.
If he had known how many people were waiting for him at this party, like vultures, just to sell their daughter to him, Harry would never have let Amelia and Bella force him to attend.
At some point, Harry felt as though he was being auctioned off, as some of their families were willing to offer millions of galleons to persuade him to sell.
It wasn't that Harry couldn't understand why they would want their daughter to marry him so badly. He was the only member and head of House Peverell, which was one of the founding houses of the wizarding world.
He was also filthy rich, and his wealth and resources had no limits. And without being humble, Harry knew that he was a good-looking man that any girl would want.
But, f*cking hell, what he was experiencing was ridiculous.
And the prime example was literally the lady who was asking but throwing herself at him.
In front of him and talking with him, or more like heavily flirting with him, was Gia Armani, the head of the Armani family, the richest family in Italy.
"A": Speaking in English
'A': Thoughts
"A": Speaking in a different language
The widowed woman, who was 50 years old, literally had a son who was older than Harry, and yet she was shamelessly trying her best to seduce him, take her to bed, and force him into a marriage.
Harry was certain that if it were any other men, they would have readily accepted the offer from Lady Armani, simply because she was, in all honesty, quite attractive.
Her exotic appearance and voluptuous figure resembled succubus; in fact, her tit* were nearly protruding from the deep neck dress she was donning, which exposed everything and covered only the bare minimum.
Fortunately, Harry was not like other weak men, and he had enough mental power to ignore the woman and keep himself away from her. Unfortunately, Gia Armani was one of the most stubborn women he had ever met who refused to leave him.
But as if the gods heard him, the help came in the form of her son, who seemed to have done something problematic, given his fearful face and the scowl on her face after her son whispered in her ears.
“Me amor, please wait for me while I do some alive personal problems," the lady Armani purred at him, rubbing her fingers on his chest, causing him to shudder in disgust.
“No problem, my lady,” Harry said with a forced anime that looked more like a grimace.
The woman finally left him and breathed a sigh of relief, and just as he turned, he collided with someone, making the whole of his drink spill on his shirt.
"Je suis vraiment désolé, monsieur, je veux voir où j'allais," a melodic voice panicked in French, and soft hands tried to wipe the strain on Harry's shirt.
"No, don’t worry, it’s fine." Harry said, grabbing the delicate hands, and when he looked up, he had to stop gasping aloud.
Because the girl who continued to babble in French with him following their collision was the most stunning woman he had ever beheld.
Her face resembled the flawless artwork that the gods had sculpted, and her hair was platinum blonde and glowing like moonlight.
And her body was the curviest hourglass shape he had ever seen, covered in a blue gown that hid most of it but still highlighted her lush body.
Harry shook himself out of his inspection, and he saw the stunning girl in front of him staring at him in concern. He noticed that she looked the same age as him.
“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to crash into you like that,”the girl apologised again.
“Please don’t worry, it was just an accident,”Harry assured her in her own language.
“You speak my tongue?”The beauty asked in surprise, and Harry was once again thankful for Fleur for teaching him her language.
“I do; a friend of mine taught it to me,”he replied with a smile.“And as I said, don’t worry about this because this can be solved just like this.”He waved his hand, and within a second, the stain disappeared from his white shirt.
“See?”Harry smirked at the girl, whose eyes were wide in amazement at his show of wandless magic.
“That was incredible,” she whispered in awe.
"Merci,”Harry bowed, making her giggle. He then straightened and asked,“By the way, why were you in such a rush?”
"Um," the girl bit her lip, glanced over her shoulder at something, and then turned back to him with a fake smile. "Oh, nothing. I was just looking for my mama.”
What the girl didn’t know was that Harry had seen what she was looking at, and it was a boy a few years older than them who looked like he was looking for her and was now waiting for her to stop talking with Harry.
"Oh, alright, I understand."Harry nodded, smiling.“Then I hope you find your mother.”
The girl then grabbed his hand as he turned to walk away.
"Please, I-I spilled your drink; surely there is something I could do to pay back for it?”She asked, or more like begged, and Harry felt like she just wanted to talk with him so that the boy could take the signal and go away.
Harry, always the guy who loved to save a damsel in distress, especially when the girl was so majestic, knew he couldn’t refuse her scream for help.
"Well, there is one way,”he told her with a smirk.
The girl's eyes perked up.“What is it? I will do it."She told him boldly.
“You have to dance with me,”Harry offered, and when the girl looked stunned and blinked at him, he elaborated,“This is the way I want you to pay me. By dancing with me, because I will love to dance with the most beautiful girl in the room,”he said with a charming smile.
When his words sank in, the girl's cheeks became bright red, and her face glowed more gorgeously.
“So what is your answer? Will you dance with me, my lady?” Harry asked graciously, with his hand outstretched.
The girl looked at his hand and then smiled the prettiest smile he had ever seen.“I would love to,”she whispered, and she grabbed his hand.
Harry, with a wide smile, pulled her to the dance, and once there, he put his hands confidently on her waist. The French girl also timidly placed herself on his shoulder, but her confidence increased when Harry smiled at her.
Both began swaying to the music, and Harry was pleased to see her enjoy it as much as he did and forget about everything else, including the boy who was following her.
But Harry didn't, who was keeping an eye on him, and smirked when he saw the arrogant-looking boy scowl and march away after seeing them dance.
“You don’t have to worry now; the boy who was following you is now gone,” Harry told her as he spun her around the dance floor.
The girl's eyes widened as she stared up at him.“You knew?”She asked shyly.
"About the ugly boy that was following you?" Harry co*cked his eyebrow with a mischievous smile, making her giggle and nod. "Well, then yes, I knew, which is why I asked you for a dance so that he could finally get it into his thick skull that you don't want to talk with him."
The girl's angelic eyes softened. “Thank you so much,” she whispered softly, and then bit her lips. “And I am sorry for dragging you into this.”
"Hey, don’t worry about that."Harry told her, tightening his hand on her waist and making her breath hitch,“I told you I get to dance with the most beautiful girl. I have no problem with that.”
The girl giggled with a blush on her cheeks.“Thank you, Monsieur-“her eyes widened as she realised she didn’t know his name nor did he do her.“I am sorry, I am so stupid, I forgot to ask your name or give mine.”She frowned in concern.
Harry chuckled.“It’s my fault too, but then again, maybe it is your fault because I forgot how to talk when I saw you,”he said cheekily.
The blush on her face was now on her whole face, and she shook her head to control herself.
“I think we should rectify that mistake, starting with me,”she said.“My name is Apolline Beauchêne, the heir of my family,”she introduced herself with pride.
Something clicked in his head after hearing her name; he felt like he had heard it before, but for now, Harry ignored it.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,”Harry said playfully, and then introduced himself,“and I am Harry Peverell, the head of House Peverell.”
Apolline’s eyes widened, and she gasped,“You’re Harry Peverell?”She squeaked, and Harry nodded.“Me and my mama had been looking for you all night.”
“Why?”Harry frowned.
"Well, you see, I am a Veela,” she told him with pride, and it was Harry’s time to be shocked. "And the Peverells were the first family to stand up for us when others scorned and hated us, which is why we are always grateful to you, and we were looking for you to express our gratitude. We have been ecstatic knowing the Peverell’s are back,” she finished with a wide smile and admiration in her eyes.
Harry, whose eyes were still wide open, said,“First of all, even though there is no need for you to thank me because it’s not me who helped your people, I still respect and accept your gratitude on behalf of my family.”
“Merci”Apolline bowed with a smile.
“But secondly,”Harry continued, his eyebrows raised.“I didn’t even know you were a Veela.”
“You didn’t?”Apolline asked amusedly.
"No, I didn't," Harry said, shaking his head, "because I have seen Veela before, but you looked so much more breathtaking than then that it didn't cross my mind."
Apolline blushed heavily, but her face displayed a pleased smile as she spoke. "I am glad to know that because, at first, I was shocked and disappointed to see you not react to my allure."
“I can understand why you would be shocked, but why disappointed?”Harry asked, feeling confused.
“Well..”Apolline bit her lip as she smirked, and Harry felt his blood rush down seeing her.“I was disappointed because the only reason a male can ignore a Veela allure is if he is in love with another woman or he doesn’t like women at all.”
“Oh Oh!”Harry blinked, and his eyes widened when he realised what she meant.
Chuckling, he shook his head.“Don’t worry, the only reason I didn’t react to your allure was because I am immune to it, and as for the second reason,”he leaned in, smirking.“Trust me, my preference is the female gender, and I love women, especially the one in my arms right now.”
Apolline's breathing was heavy, and with how close they were, Harry could feel it on his lips.“I’m very happy to know that,”she whispered through her hooded eyes, and Harry almost grabbed her to kiss those pretty red lips.
But unfortunately, a female voice stopped the two from kissing right in front of everyone.
"Apolline, come on, it’s time for us to go.”
Apolline groaned and sighed upon hearing the voice, and she stared up at him apologetically.“That’s my mama; I have to go,”she said quietly.
"Yeah, sure.”Harry smiled half-heartedly because his heart was screaming at him to take this girl, but he reluctantly pulled his hand.
After a moment of hesitance, Apolline leaned up on her toes and swiftly kissed him on the cheeks. “See you soon, Harry,” she whispered, and then she walked away.
Harry mutely stared after her walking away, or more precisely at her ass, that she was swaying for him intentionally, going by the smirk she threw over her shoulder at him.
Harry realised after she left that he hadn't even asked for her address or anything else to contact her by owl or letter.
Cursing himself, he decided to look for Dumbledore and saw him coming towards him.
“Shall we go?” The old wizard asked.
"Yeah.” Harry nodded.
They both then nodded to one of the people who stopped them and, after excusing themselves, left the hall.
“So how was it? Did you enjoy it?” Once they were outside, Dumbledore asked.
“For some part, it was a bore, but mostly I enjoyed it,” Harry shrugged.
“And does the good part involve the dance with a certain MissBeauchêne?”Dumbledore asked cheekily.
"Definitely,” Harry answered without knowing, since he was still lost in the thought of the girl he just met.
When he heard Dumbledore chuckling, he realised what he said and blushed. “I-I mean, yes, I enjoyed it, but how do you know about her?” he demanded of the bearded man.
"Harry, everyone saw you two dance with each other closely, might I add?" Dumbledore said with a smirk, "Although I hope you know that she is someone's fiancé."
“What?” Harry's head snapped at him in shock.
Dumbledore nodded, saying, "Though saying fiancé is not right because they are still not engaged, their parents are closed to finalising a betrothal between them."
Harry's blood and magic were boiling with jealousy as he hissed, "Who is the boy?"
Dumbledore raised his eyebrow. "I think you should know him; after all, you met him, but then again, maybe you forgot. His name is Jean Delacour, son of the French Head of DMLE."
Harry halted abruptly upon hearing his name, and a sudden realisation dawned on him.
Dumbledore turned back after finding him not beside him. “What happened, Harry? Come on, let’s go,” he said, waiting for Harry to take both of them back.
Harry, with some difficulty, brought himself to the headmaster, and grabbing his hand, he used his technique to take them back to the school.
After that, Harry spent the whole night sleepless, with only one thought in his mind.
He not only met and danced, but he also flirted with and almost kissed Fleur Delacour's mother. And he also just realised the boy he pissed away was none other than Fleur's father and Apolline's supposed future husband.
Maybe Amelia was right. He does want to take a woman away from someone she is going to marry.
